All Blacks relive shock 1978 defeat by Munster in night out at theatre

You could reach out and feel the nerves as those concerned pulled on their
famous red shirts and finished taping their knees and adjusting their laces
in the changing room.

Bringing back the memories: the current All Blacks relived the shock 1978 defeat by Munster in night out at the theatre Photo: COLORSPORT

By Brendan Gallagher

7:19PM GMT 17 Nov 2008

The cast of Alone It Stands have performed their little masterpiece more than 1,000 times on four continents but half an hour before 'kick-off' at the Millennium Theatre at Limerick on Sunday night came a bombshell from playwright John Breen. On Monday the entire 50-strong All Blacks party would be in the audience.

It is one thing doing your version of the haka, not to mention your approximation of a New Zealand accent, among those of a Munster or neutral disposition, but quite another poking fun – albeit gentle – at the All Blacks when the modern day warriors are seated 10 yards away in the small and intimate auditorium.

They need not have worried. The All Blacks – in jeans and T-shirts mode with some yawning off a late night in Dublin after their victory over Ireland – had slipped into the theatre virtually unannounced but received a three-minute standing ovation when Breen announced their presence. They were among friends. The only bigger cheer came two hours later when a roof-lifting roar greeted the final whistle on stage signifying Munster's 12-0 win. It was as if the result was still in doubt 30 years on.

"I must admit I was pretty nervous – make that absolutely terrified – when the All Blacks confirmed they were coming along en masse," admits Breen. "It was one of those classic moments of truth because many of the jokes are at their expense but the play is also in large part a homage to their massive legendary status in the game. If beating the All Blacks wasn't such a bloody miracle, the play wouldn't exist."

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I last watched Alone it Stands in the West End seven years ago and the play remains fresh and vibrant, a miracle in its own right. The choreography to recreate a frenzied rugby match is matchless and the tears never far away when Donal Canniffe hears of his father's death after the game. A genuine theatrical experience as well as a rugby night out.

"I could only write the play because I wasn't at the match, and I must be the only adult male in Munster who actually admits to that," says Breen, who was an 11-year-old 'scally' at the time more concerned with building a Halloween bonfire. "If I had witnessed the actuality of the miracle I would have felt honour bound to rigidly observe the truth and nothing but the truth. By not being there I was able to let my imagination roam at little.

"For me the heart of the play actually concerns the death of Donal Canniffe's father. I first heard the story in full in 1998, the 20th anniversary which apart from a small dinner passed by almost unremarked. I couldn't understand why – it was an unbelievable story – and it was then I decided to try and do it justice in the way I know best."

The fact the RTE did not cover the game – they had one outside broadcast crew in the whole of Ireland and that day they sent it to an opening at the Cork Opera house – was absolutely key as Breen put his masterpiece together.

"The 1978 match is the last great folk memory in Ireland. All major events since then have been recorded for posterity by TV but there was absolutely no TV footage from this game although cine-camera footage of the Munster try has subsequently emerged. The game lives on through an oral tradition. Everyone says they were there and everyone has their own take on events."